(uneven footsteps reach keen ears, so voryn is aware of gen's approach. this does not inspire him to turn his head to look at him; he'd rather be stabbed in the back than have to face another zenite's attempt to corrupt his values. perhaps if the call for his attention goes unacknowledged, the stranger will exit his wide sphere of personal space. of course, nothing is ever so easy as that.

a hand takes him by the bicep, tight and insistent. he must turn himself into the grasp to do anything about it, and he has raised his elbow to prepare to remove this new parasite; ultimately, the retaliatory, jutting joint freezes.

this close, voryn is easily able to meet sullen eyes.)

I know your voice... I have heard it before. (a chimer's memory is long—voryn's is longer. the elbow lowers but the arm stays between them. his forearm will act as the bar keeping gen away.) You wish to speak with someone you called a villain? I find this difficult to believe, boy.